


Fade Away

by Walker_August



Category: Mission: Impossible, Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Non-Graphic Violence, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-26
Updated: 2019-06-26
Packaged: 2020-05-20 08:41:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19373185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Walker_August/pseuds/Walker_August





	Fade Away

She wakes suddenly, painfully to a hand around her neck slowly tightening around her. She does everything she can to push him away, fingernails sinking in to skin until there’s blood. He’s asleep. It’s a nightmare, she knows it, but he wont wake and it causes terror to know it’s him and it’s not him. He could kill her easily, choke the life from her, they both had known that but never thought about it for a moment. He wouldn’t. He couldn’t.

Now, she can feel the world fading away around her but August’s grip only tightens. Her small, desperate gasps and the tears leaking from her eyes – her hand pushes against her loves chest and she can feel his heart beating double time even as hers slows with every second. Windpipe gradually being crushed down, eyes fluttering closed as her breath leaves her completely.

Just as she’s fading, August comes to. Like waking from an awful nightmare only to realise the reality is much more terrifying, he sees her but can’t comprehend what’s in front of him.

White as a sheet, he sees his lovers’ lifeless form before him, his hand still around her throat but he doesn’t move it for too long. He doesn’t believe it, and it’s the shock of course, but the minute he understands he’s cradling her limp body to his chest and pleading with every deity he can name. Whichever will hear him and save her from the monster that did this to her.

What has he done?

\----

The next few hours are a blur. He’d called the number, the one Sloane gave him for medical emergencies – the best and fastest care the country had to offer, a CIA benefit he’d never been more grateful for than right now. August sits in silence for hours as doctors and nurses rush around the pristine facility, but time stands still for him in his personal bubble of horror and despair. Self-hatred roots deeper in to his soul, polluting and blackening the golden threads of love she had woven in to his spirit.

He hasn’t spoken a word, not even an utterance to himself. The man looks wild, the nurses all say it, wide eyed and ghostly pale as he sits and stares in to the nothingness. Still in his soft jersey pants, the material feels wrong against his rough, murderous hands – too comfortable. The feeling is somehow foreign to him and he knows he doesn’t deserve it one bit. He doesn’t want to feel that, not now.

Villain. Monster. It’s not the first time those words have plagued his mind but this time he won’t deny them, never again.

He’s afraid, that’s the thing, afraid of who he is and what he can do. But more than anything, afraid of her fearing him. All August ever wanted – strived for – was to make her happy and keep her safe from all the harm and hate he knew existed in the world. Protecting her from the vicious, disgusting circles he operated in was the only mission he really cared about. It had never occurred to him that it would be he who would be the one she needed protecting from.

So lost in his thoughts, August doesn’t notice the nurse tentatively approaching him, talking to him. She reaches over and gently taps a hand on his shoulder to get his attention, immediately regretting it when the broken man before her seems to shrink away from her touch, shock in his features at the unexpected contact. She passes on her message, that his partner is awake and he can see her, and disappears back behind her desk when he nods a small thanks and makes to stand up. It takes him several minutes to build up some courage.

\----

The bruises around her neck, that’s what breaks August completely. The evidence of her pain, manifested in the sickly blue-purple patterns adoring the area reserved for gentle kisses and beautiful jewellery. He stands by the door and doesn’t speak, weeping miserably at the sight and keeping his distance in fear of himself. Or her reaction to him, he isn’t sure yet.

“August” she just about manages, barely making a noise but he knows and hears her although his heart beats so loud in his ears it’s almost deafening.

Slowly, so slowly, he moves towards her outstretched hand but doesn’t touch.

“I...I’m more sorry than I could ever explain. I don’t know what to say” he whispers, shaking hands finally grasping hers as the tears fall. She flinches involuntarily at his touch and his heart sinks even lower. He looks down, shame on his face, but when he feels her hand again press against his chest above his heart, he looks back up to see tears shining in her eyes too.

“I love you. I love you. Please forgive me.” August repeats again and again and again.

“It was a dream….a fucking nightmare I was having. The mission where I nearly- you know the one. It’s been replaying in my head for months but I never – I didn’t think – Oh god.” His words are rushed and he hates that it sounds like he’s making excuses.

He had never admitted how much that job took from him, how difficult it had been to recover from almost dying in that awful, freezing hell-scape. It had screwed him up, and maybe if he had actually shown up at the therapy sessions he would’ve realised that and dealt with it, but instead he’d just ignored it. Buried it away, something he was always so good at.

It was entirely his fault, and this guilt was going to haunt August for eternity. He would never forgive himself, but when he looks at her now he notices the look of absolute love she gives and he wants to scream. It’s forgiveness, in its purest form and of course he loves her for it but he doesn’t know how she could still believe in him at all. Volatile and dangerous, he doesn’t have faith in himself any more.

\------

“I trust you absolutely, August. I’m not scared” She tells him softly, two weeks later. The marks around her neck are all but gone; her voice back to normal with that pleasing lilt that always makes his heart sing in response. She’d carried on as normal almost straight away, something that awed him to no end because August found it impossible to just ignore the feeling in his gut.

“Come to bed, please” she takes his hand and feels him shy away all over again, sinking back in to his shame. He just shakes his head and she sighs back to him.

“I can’t. I don’t want to hurt you again” he murmurs, and the fear is there so clear in his eyes.

“You won’t” She whispers, reaching for him again and pulling him close, demanding his presence “Please, August. Please. I miss you so much. You don’t have to punish yourself any more, ok?”.

Her faced pressed against his chest, he can feel the tears wetting the front of his shirt as she clings to him, fabric bunching up in her fists as she pulls him closer again. He sighs, presses his lips to the top of her head. The small, sad futon isn’t the worst place he’s slept but he hates it nevertheless – knowing she’s warm and soft and wanting him in the very next room makes it more difficult every day. Maybe she’s right, that he is punishing himself, but he can’t help but remember the feeling of thinking she was dead and he never wants to feel it again.

She whimpers against him now, tears still flowing silently, but he doesn’t wrap his arms around her – somehow worried he’ll crush her delicate body if he does. Too scared to keep going, he instead wallows in his misery and lets it completely consume him.

“I...” he starts, struggling. Knowing that she’s hurting so much, and again because of him. He hates himself more with every moment. 

“You could’ve died. I can’t risk it” He tries to keep his voice from shaking as he gently pulls her hands from him and moves away. Her eyes glisten with tears and he can feel his own streaking his cheeks now too.

“Please understand, I love you too much. I have to protect you from-” he stops, letting out a slow shaky breath “From me. I don’t want to put you through anything like that ever again” He wipes the tears from his face, tasting the salt from the ones that got caught in his moustache.

“We’ll get through this. We always get through it” she pleads, knowing where this is going and dreading it.

“I don’t see how we can. How I can. All I want is for you to be safe, and I can’t give you that any more. I’m so sorry, for everything. I can’t do it.” The look of resignation, all the warmth he’d ever given her draining away.

That’s how August Walker breaks his loves heart.


End file.
